


dancing shoes for fighting gloves

by woopsforgotadam



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Curtain Fic, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:39:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6260524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woopsforgotadam/pseuds/woopsforgotadam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damaris Vastia decided that, no, she doesn't want to dance. Not as much as she wants to became a mage, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dancing shoes for fighting gloves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myillusionsgone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myillusionsgone/gifts).



> This is completely self indulgent. Jana was involved, of course, because she always encourages these things. We've discussed these family-fics enough for her to be considered my co-conspirator.

Not many knew it, but Damaris Vastia used to dance and she was pretty good at it, too. She had a trait that was common within her family and it was to succeed and be the best at anything you dedicate your time too. That was why her father had taken Erik for five years to train him in the way he was trained. They visited and each time, there was immense improvement in her brother. The same was said for Mari, whose dancing and magic was improved.

Unlike Erik, though, she was going to school, not being homeschooled.

Which was a sore spot for her, but she accepted it the same way anyone in her family accepted less agreeable news: she kept her head held high and dealt with it. It was years later, when the newest additional to their family, little Adelina was expected to be born; Lyon and Erik’s isolated mountain training ended. Erik seemed disappointed, but he could still improve everywhere and confided to his twin that he was happy that he wouldn’t have to eat breakfast food all day now. Mari laughed at this and told him to continue his math homework.

Eventually, as Adelina, or Addy, grew up and time moved on, Mari spoke to her mother and said:

“I wish to quit dancing, Mom.”

Sherry Blendy-Vastia blinked at this, fixing her glasses (ones Mari were well aware that her mother only wore because her father bugged her to do so) so they stopped falling down her nose and remained quiet in thought for a moment. Finally, her mother spoke, “Are you sure, Mari? You seem to enjoy it a lot and always have.”

Mari did. A lot. But, she enjoyed good grades with less stress and her magic even more. “I do, but school is picking up and I enjoy my magic more than dancing. Training will need to be a bigger priority for me if I want to be a mage.”

Little did Mari know, Sherry wasn’t all too comfortable with both her children’s aspiring to be mages. The life was tough, the salary could be good if you were smart. It was dangerous work and unlike herself at their age, her children had other options that were easier. It was why Lyon hesitated greatly with training Erik. Not only was the separation not wanted, but he had the same resignations that Sherry did.

But Sherry also knew that with being a mage came honor, came something that not everyone can and ever will experience. So instead of fighting their children, Lyon and Sherry decided to give them their best shot.

In the end, Sherry nodded in agreement, “Well, alright, Mari. If that’s what you want.”

“It is, Mom.”

               

Older now, at the age of twenty, those dancing techniques came in handy as she avoided attacks from a requip mage. Her flexibility from dancing had always come in handy, but normally, she’s never had to fight this close. Her magic, doll play, was much better from at least some distance.

Where was Erik?

Her question was soon answered as the ground became covered with ice, Mari smiled at that and slid between the legs of her assailant. A risky move, but one a dancer like herself could pull off. Besides, the requip mage was unused to icy terrain, something someone with the last name Vastia did not experience. A black gloved hand found its way in her vision and she took it, standing up now she was face to face with her twin.

“I told you I should have taken the red head,” Erik said immediately, his eyes on the requip mage, “wanna trade?”

Mari laughed, “You came here before finishing off your opponent? How unbecoming.”

“A change of strategy, dear twin,” remarked Erik, “what do you think?”

“I suppose.” Mari smiled, “when a brother and sister stand together, they don’t really stand a chance do they?”

“I suppose not, no.”


End file.
